Office Day: ShinRa
by Metallicafangirl
Summary: My collection of things I couldn't put anywhere else, short stories, rants, songfics, you name it, about the residents of ShinRa.
1. Feared

An office. Just like any other office you've ever seen. Grey walls, blue carpet, four small desks, nothing fancy. A plaque on the door shows it is office number forty-two. A window on the eastern wall overlooks a huge city, the neon lights casting reflections in the glass. There is a clock on the wall, showing that the time is 19.00. There are no ornaments or pictures on the walls, they are completely bare. In the corner is a cupboard, one of the doors slightly ajar, showing that it is crammed full of paperwork.  
  
At the desk farthest from the door sits a man with long black hair. His eyes, set in the expressionless mask that is his face, are completely devoid of emotion. A t closer examination, one might discover a hint of sadness and hidden anger. He is bent over his work, scribbling away on a piece of paper. When he is done, he throws the paper at the desktop, to join the veritable mountain of paperwork that litters his desk. At a glance, it seems to be recites and shopping lists. A strange thing. When one looks closer, the items listed are not the kind you can get in an average grocery store. It's better not to investigate.  
  
At the desk next to his sits a young girl with blond hair and wide, brown eyes. Her eyes are glued to the computer screen in front of her, where numbers and letters disappear and appear faster than anyone can read. Every now and then, one might be able to discern a number or two, but the girl seems able to understand it, because her finger type away on the keyboard almost as fast as the numbers appear. Her face shows only boredom. She gets up and walks over to the black-haired mans desk to get some of the recites. On her way back, she almost trips over the third person in the room.  
  
He's slumped over his desk, with his head pillowed on his arms and his flaming red hair spilling out over the desktop. His clothing is rumpled and creased. He's asleep. Beside him on the desktop is an empty bottle of whiskey. In the thrash-can beside the desk, a few more resides. Obviously, he's drunk, but the other occupants of the room don't seem to think it is anything to comment on, or they are used to it. This man doesn't have any paperwork on his desk. Either he's already finished with it, or he never had any to begin with. The latter seems more believable, since he's spilled some of the whiskey on the desktop.  
  
The fourth, and last, occupant of the room is standing by the window. He's tall and bald, but those are the only two things worth mentioning about him. He's got his sunglasses on, even indoors. Not that he's need them if he went outside, it's currently raining. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he's staring out the window. He doesn't move, he doesn't make a sound. Shortly, if you were blind, you'd never know he was there. There is nothing remarkable about him, and the other occupants take no notice of him.  
  
At face value, this office could be occupied by ordinary accountants, or lawyers, but that is not the case. The four people in the room could be orderly civilians, going about their everyday work, but they aren't. They aren't any of those things.  
  
They are Shin-Ra's assassins - no, assassins isn't the right description, killers is more like it. Assassin is too romantic a word to describe them. They simply kill anyone who dares to stand in their employer's way, and does so quickly, quietly, and neatly.  
  
Pleading for mercy will not help you. To them, mercy is a sharp blade or a quick bullet. Bribing them will not work; they are incorruptible; they've hit the rock-bottom of corruption, they can't go any further down. Not even being in Shin-Ra's employ will help you; the President has been known to kill even those who are standing on his own side, simply because they were in the way.  
  
They are known as the Turks. Not even to most drunk are stupid enough not to be intimidated by them. The mere mention of their name is all it takes to sober anyone up. You would be wise to fear them.  
  
A word of advice; don't run. Running will only give you time to regret your decision. They will find you.  
  
It is their job, after all. 


	2. Freak On A Leash

Rufus Shinra stood in his office, looking out over Midgar, the city that he owned. The city that his father had left him when he died. Yes, now he was an orphan. Hi mother was dead too, killed by the hands of President Sebastian Shinra. And when his mother had died, so had a part of himself. Rufus' hands gripped the window sill tightly, his knuckles whitening. He had loved his mother more than life itself, and that bastard had shot her. . Something takes a part of me Something lost and never seen .  
  
If Avalanche hadn't killed him, Rufus would have gone down on his knees and thanked Sephiroth for slaying his father. Slayed, not killed. You don't kill a mad dog, you slay it. But with the death of his father, he had lost the only thing that mattered to him in life; his freedom.  
  
. Every time I start to believe  
  
Something's raped and taken from me..From me .  
  
It was almost laughable. When his father died, Rufus had thought that he was finally free to do as he wanted, but he had been mistaken. His father's death had only brought more responsibilities, more complications.  
  
. Life's got to be always messing with me (You wanna see the light)  
  
Can't they chill and let me be free?(So do I) .  
  
He was sure someone up there was laughing at him now. Scarlet and Heidegger were constantly annoying him, trying to get him to pay for some new project. Reeve was buying coffee for Rufus' money, and never once paying him back. Tseng was the only one who wasn't trying to steal his money. Instead, he expected Rufus to carry out ridiculous amounts of work every day. Some times, he just wanted them to fuck off, and leave him the hell alone.  
  
. Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light)  
  
I try to every night, all in vain. All in vain. .  
  
They didn't seem to realize, that he was just one man, that he couldn't take the press anymore. No matter how hard he tried to please them, they were never satisfied. When he carried out the tasks they gave him, he didn't receive as much as a single thank you. All he got, was more work, more responsibilities.  
  
. Sometimes I cannot take this place  
  
Sometimes it's my life I can't taste .  
  
Rufus sat down in his chair, leaned against the desk, and buried his face in his hands. He was sick of this place, he just wanted to get out, get away, be a normal person, with a normal life. This life didn't seem to be his own anymore. It seemed to be constructed for another man.  
  
. Sometimes I cannot feel my face  
  
You'll never see fall from grace .  
  
He traced his face with his fingertips. It was strange; it didn't feel like his own face anymore. It was a mask, a face that belonged to somebody else. It wasn't his own, yet he wore it every day, not daring to show his real face to the world, in fear of how they might react. Nobody's ever seen him bleed or cry. Nobody but himself. Tears were a weakness, and therefore forbidden. He kept his mask up; they would never see him fall.  
  
. Something takes a part of me  
  
You and I was meant to be .  
  
Every time he got close to someone, they wound up dead, and with them to the grave went a little part of Rufus himself. He glanced over at the photograph he kept hidden in his coat-pocket. His beloved.The only one he wanted, yet the only one he couldn't allow himself to get close to. He shook his head, thinking about the corporation he was bound to.  
  
. I cheat, but for me to lay  
  
Something takes a part of me .  
  
Shin-Ra was really just a game. A big game that every one played, but no one knew the rules to. Rufus knew only the basic rule that everyone played by; lie, cheat and steal, as long as you win, it doesn't matter how you got there. You won if you were alive at the end of the day. He had always enjoyed outsmarting his opponents in that game, but even that was getting hard to concentrate on these days.  
  
. Feeling like a freak on a leash. (You wanna see the light)  
  
Feeling like I have no release. (So do I) .  
  
He felt like Shin-Ra had him tethered to a pole, with a choking collar around his neck. He felt like he didn't fit in with all these cold hearted, cheating, stealing bastards. He was the odd one out. The freak. And the worst part was that he could see no way out of the role he had made for himself. He felt diseased, ill, contaminated. Once again, he glanced out the window, down on the city that was his. Sure, he had power, wealth, anything he could ask for. But not freedom, the only thing he really wanted. He had power, but at what cost? He had been forced to give up the only thing important to him. He though back, thinking about all the times he had been all alone in his office on the 70th floor of the Shin-Ra building, thinking about his miserable excuse for a life. Gathering his wayward thought again, he steeled himself for yet another day in the life of the being that had once been Rufus Shinra.  
  
. How many times have I felt diseased? (You wanna see the light)  
  
Nothing in this life is free.Is free. .  
  
*END* .  
  
*********************************** This was the second look into the lives of the Shin-Ra employees. I chose to do a songfic because I need to practise doing those. This is only the third songfic I've done, so if there's something wrong with it, I blame lack of experience. I don't own FFVII, nor the song `Freak On A Leash.´. they belong respectively to Square and Korn. Please review.  
  
- Metallicafangirl 


	3. This Is Me, Get Used To It

Drunkard.  
  
Womanizer.  
  
Killer.  
  
That's just a few of the things they call me. I'm a drunkard, so what? It's not like I hurt them by drinking. It's not like they get a hangover when I'm drunk. I wonder if they ever asked themselves why I drink. I wonder if they really want to know. I don't drink to drown my sorrows, I don't drink to forget. I drink to numb my senses; I drink to make the pain a little easier, if only for a while. Some wise guy said that drinking doesn't solve anything. He was right, it doesn't. But does it help me to know that? No. Will I stop drinking because of that? No. Unless you have some better way to handle this, I'll keep drinking. After all, booze is the only thing that hasn't let me down yet.  
  
No, that's not true. There's Tseng, too. That man has never let me down, and I don't think he will. Call it intuition, but I know he'd never let me down if he could do something to prevent it. Did you know, he's the one that picked me up out of the gutter, and placed me in the Turks? The Turks; Rude, Elena and Tseng. The only family I have, and the only people that matters to me. Tseng can be a bit demanding, and he's probably the hardest taskmaster to ever see the light of day, but I'd follow him to hell. I know that Rude and Elena feel the same. He's the one who keeps us together.  
  
Womanizer. Yeah, that's me. But what's so bad about it? The women ain't complaining, are they? So I get more chicks than you do. Tough luck, you'll just have to work harder then. I don't hurt you by being a womanizer, do I? They complain about my clothes too. I really don't see why. So, I don't wash my clothes. I have a reason. People think that if you don't wash your clothes regularly, and drink and swear worse than Cid Highwind on a bad day, you're stupid. If you let them think you're stupid, it'll be easier to kill them later.  
  
Killer. That's what I am; it's what I do for a living. Don't get me wrong, I don't kill for pleasure, or because I am incredibly evil. I do it because it's the only thing I know how to do. I kill because I'm ordered to. But if you can look me in the eye, down the barrel of my gun, and tell me `Yeah, kill me you bastard.´, I'll be happy to oblige. It hasn't happened yet, though. I have still to meet someone who really, really, wants to die. You ask how I can live with myself after killing so many. I just do. I've done and seen things that'd make you wet your pants, so why should the mere act of killing someone cause me any trouble? Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.  
  
You don't respect me, but that's ok. You have no compassion for me, but a few of you pity me. I don't care. I don't need your respect, I don't need your compassion, I don't need your pity. I don't care whether you agree with what I'm doing or not, as long as you don't get in the way of my work. Sure, respect me if it makes you feel like the bigger man, pity me if it makes you feel better, but don't you dare try and change my way of living. I like it this way, and let's face it; you don't care enough about me to change it.  
  
Respect me, pity me, go down on your knees and worship me for all I care. Call me drunk, call me womanizer, call me killer, I won't give a damn. After all, that's what I am, ain't no doubt about it, so why should I complain? Of course you know me better than I do, so who am I to argue?  
  
I call me Reno, and in the end, that's the only thing that matters.  
  
After all, I'm the one who lives this life. 


	4. One Little Word

People wonder why I never say anything, why I barely even answer direct questions. They can go on wondering. I will never tell them, and they don't care enough to try and pry it out of me. It wouldn't have been very effective, anyway. Not that they would be foolish enough to try. People tend not to pick on a man twice their size.  
  
I was never a very talkative person, but after my birthday, I can't remember which one, I stopped talking altogether, unless it was absolutely necessary. Why? Simple, really. I'm afraid. What is there to be afraid of? A lot of things. I'm afraid that I will say too much, and put someone in danger, someone I care about, even though those people are scarce, I can tell you. It's ridiculous, right? Wrong. I've seen it happen. And when It happened, it struck close to home. Too close for comfort.  
  
It's kind of funny, really. You never think that anything even remotely dangerous can or will happen to you. And when something actually happens, it shocks you more than it would have, had you seen it coming. One little word too much can put you in danger, and one word never spoken can be equally dangerous. One single word can rend families apart, take innocent lives, and ruin those still alive. One little word can start whole wars, wars between nations that have always been friendly to each other. An old saying goes; ´Sticks and stones can break my bones, but word will never hurt me.´. It is wrong. Word do hurt, worse than any other weapon you'd care to name. Words can kill.  
  
It happened to me.  
  
I said something I shouldn't have, believing I was too strong for anyone to hurt me, or anyone near me. I was wrong, of course, but how could I have known? I should have, but I didn't. I was stupid, it was that simple. I said too much, and because of me, a whole family died. My family. Our house was burned to the ground, with all my brothers and sisters and my parents inside. I don't remember much of what happened afterwards, but I remember someone telling me that everything would be alright. I remember that man; it would be strange if I didn't. It was Tseng, and as far as I know, that's the only time he ever lied to me. Everything wasn't going to be alright. But at that time, I trusted him. I became one of the Turks, and I have never looked back since.  
  
Now, after ten years with the Turks, the image of the burning house is clearer than ever. I will never forget what happened, or who was to blame. I have seen more horrible thing in these ten years than most people sees in their whole life, I have done things that are better off forgotten, but I won't forget. Not ever. My hands are stained with the blood of innocents, and any hope I ever held of it all being just one bad dream is gone. I have more sins on my conscience than the Devil himself. I have become a servant that does my employers' dirty deeds; I follow orders blindly, without questioning, because I don't know what else to do. I am a pawn, in someone else's game, played by rules I have never seen. And all because of one little word.... 


	5. Circle Of Life

Shin-Ra.  
  
You can't live with them, you can't live without them. It's not very hard to understand. If you don't, I'll explain it to you.  
  
Shin-Ra gives birth to you. That was the case of Rufus Shinra himself. He was born into the Shin-Ra family, and thus could never leave. He was forced to become the very heart of Shin-Ra Inc., whether he wanted to or not. No one asked him for his opinion, and I don't think they wanted to hear it. After all, no one likes when your favourite puppet starts to protest and complain, as I have no doubt Rufus would do. He was given leadership at too young an age, but he handled it well, considering the crisis the world went through at that point. He may have attempted to rule the world with fear, but his father ruled the world with money, and somehow, I think that is worse.  
  
Shin-Ra makes you grow up. Look at Elena. When she came here, she was a naïve, blue-eyed, non-too-smart little girl, who's only claim to fame was that she could handle computers better that any of the other Turks. Now, you could never guess she once asked what the Turks really id for a living. She has become a hard, unforgiving, ruthless killer. She had to, really. No one can survive in the Turks without becoming at least a little jaded. Shin- Ra takes you in, and makes you grow up.  
  
Shin-Ra cares for you. Yes, they do, but in their own special way. If they didn't care for you, then you would most certainly die, and Shin-Ra can't be bothered with educating new employees. It would be going through too much trouble. They just don't have the time. But the few valued employees they have, they take good care of. Just take a good look at Reno. He has been to the hospital more times this year than most people are in their whole life. Who paid for those visits? It sure as hell wasn't Reno. No, it was Shin-Ra. So, in their own way, Shin-Ra does care for you.  
  
Shin-Ra kills you. But you knew that already. They killed Tseng. But wasn't that Sephiroth, you ask. It was Sephiroth who held the blade, that's correct, but if Shin-Ra hadn't sent Tseng to the Temple of Ancients, he would never have met Sephiroth, and thus, would still be alive. Shin-Ra has ordered more executions than any other corporation to date. They're rumoured to kill anyone at the drop of a hat, and it's well earned. They have been known to assassinate anyone who dares to stand in their way.  
  
But, despite all the crimes Shin-Ra have committed, all the people killed by that very corporation, and how much many a man hates it; the truth is simple and horrifying. If you destroy Shin-Ra, the world collapses. Sin-Ra, you can't live with it, you can't live without it.  
  
Shin-Ra gives birth to you.  
  
Shin-Ra makes you grow up.  
  
Shin-Ra cares for you.  
  
Shin-Ra kills you.  
  
It's that simple. It's no circle of life. It's a one way street. 


End file.
